


wait for me to come home

by chxrrywhine



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: (even though Buck and Eddie are too stupid to realize it), Adult Relationships are Complicated, Ana deserves better than their shit, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, no beta we die like my motivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chxrrywhine/pseuds/chxrrywhine
Summary: Chris doesn’t take the lego. He keeps staring at Buck with those big, doleful eyes, and says, “Why can’t you be with my dad instead?”His voice is soft and sad, naive and hopeful all at the same time. It’s positively heartbreaking is what it is, especially compounded with the fact that Buck has been asking himself the same question for months now.Buck offers him another smile, softer and tinged with a little of his own sadness, and says, “It’s complicated, buddy.”or; set before the mid-season finale, buck and chris have that little one-on-one
Relationships: Eddie Diaz/Ana Flores (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 443





	wait for me to come home

**Author's Note:**

> holy hell, i struggled through this fic. please excuse any and all errors, i've looked at this fic for so long i'm not even sure it's made of real words. title from photograph by ed sheeran because i love pain.
> 
> HAPPY MID-SEASON FINALE DAY, PEOPLE. And also, Happy International Women's Day to all my baddies out there. I love you <3

“You know you’re going to have to talk to him eventually, don’t you?”

Christopher stares down at his legos. He drags his hand over the pieces, sharp edges undoubtedly leaving little scratches in his skin, not that he seems to notice. He stares down at the colorful pile, petulant and stubborn to the very end.

Buck loves this kid more than he can express, more than there are words in all the dictionaries in every language, but he doesn’t know what to do here. He’s at a complete loss and has been ever since Eddie went out for his date three hours ago.

Buck slides off the couch and onto the floor so he’s eye-level with Chris and picks up a lego. He holds it up between them. “What are you going to do with this one?”

Chris shrugs and doesn’t look up, his lips twisted up into a pitiful little pout.

Buck fights back a sigh. This isn’t going to be easy. Not like he'd expected it to be, really.

Even the memory of last night is enough to send a lance of pain straight through him. In all his years of knowing Eddie and Chris, the only times he’s ever heard Christopher raise his voice to his dad was with laughter or joy. The kid’s got some pipes on him, that’s for sure, and when Chris is playing around with his dad, the sound of his bright laughter is loud enough to fill every nook and cranny of the house. It’s a sound Buck’s gotten used to over the last few weeks since crashing on their couch. Love and happiness practically ooze from every crack of the Diaz home to the point he's bathed in it, wrapped up like a shawl. 

But he’s never heard Chris raise his voice to his dad in anger before. Definitely never heard him say he hated him. Until last night.

Silence had descended upon the entire house. Buck couldn’t see Eddie’s face from his position on the couch, but he didn’t need to—his silence spoke loud enough. Chris hobbled off to his room, slamming his door behind him, and Eddie had stood in the middle of the kitchen floor for a few seconds before leaving the house without another word. The only reason Buck knew he’d even come home last night was because he’d stayed up waiting for him. When four-o’clock AM finally came around, Eddie slipped into the house, kicked off his shoes and went right to his room. Breakfast that morning had been a quiet, tense affair, both Diaz boys bowing their heads over their meals and eating silently before going their separate ways.

It’s been a rough fucking twenty-four hours, to say the very least.

Buck puts the lego on top of another, stacks upon stacks as he gears himself up to have this conversation. He rakes his fingers through the pile. “You knew your dad was going to start dating eventually.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” If possible, Chris’s pout intensifies.

“Tough luck, kid.” Buck clears his throat. He only hesitates for a second before he says, “Miss Flores isn’t so bad.” 

“I just don’t get why he has to date _her._ ” 

The inflection on the word is borderline unkind, so uncharacteristically Christopher that Buck is almost at a loss for words. “She likes your dad,” he says after a moment. “And she likes you. Isn’t that enough?”

Chris sets his legoes down and looks up at Buck. “Do you like her?”

“I think she’s a very nice person.”

For all that he really knows about her. Buck’s only met her twice—once at the station when she dropped by to say hello (and charmed the pants off everyone there) and again a few nights ago when she came by to take Eddie out for drinks. 

Christopher digs his heels in. “That’s not what I asked you.”

Damnit, this kid.

Buck opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He wants to say yes. For Eddie’s sake, for Chris’s sake, he wants to say yes. _Yes, I like Ana Flores, yes, I think she’s great for your dad, yes, I think they should be happy together,_ but he can’t.

No, not can’t. _Won’t_.

Because Buck has never lied to Chris before, and he’s not going to start now. It’s true that Ana is pretty. It’s true that she’s funny, and whip-smart, and everything Eddie would look for in a woman. 

It’s also true that she’s not him. 

And if Buck wants Eddie to be with anyone, he wants him to be with him.

It’s all he wants, actually. All he’s ever wanted, really, only he was too stupid to realize that he already had it until it was plucked from his hands. Joke’s on him. And the thing is, Buck knows— _knows_ to the very depths of him —that he has the power to make or break this relationship here and now. If he tells Chris he doesn’t like Miss Flores, Chris will dig his heels in even farther. He’ll whine, and protest, and rebel until Eddie gives in and splits up with her, and that’s not what Buck wants. Or, well, he _does_ want it, but not like that.

But then again, if he does say he likes her, that’s it for him. The nail in the coffin of everything he’d ever hoped for. Eddie would ride the relationship out to the very end. Marry her, probably. And then where will he be but left standing behind in the ashes of everything he burned down? 

So, yes, Buck wants to tell Chris that, so long as Eddie’s happy, he’s happy, and he wants that to be enough, but it isn’t. It should be, but it isn’t, and Buck doesn’t know what to do with any of that. Does that make him selfish? Does it make him a bad friend? Hoping for Eddie’s relationship to crash and burn while he’s taking advantage of the man’s kindness? Yeah, probably. But Buck’s given up on trying to guilt himself out of the feelings—it doesn’t work and all it does is give him a headache.

 _You should just tell him how you feel,_ Maddie said when he called her to complain about accidentally walking in on Eddie and Ana kissing a few days ago. _I promise you it’s not going to go the way you think it will_ . And Buck had considered that for about half a moment before he realized that it’s easy for Maddie to be happy-gungho about love when she’s pregnant with the love of her life’s child. Buck loves his sister, he does, and he'd swear by her advice any other time, but there’s a lot more on the line here than just rejection. If he tells Eddie how he feels and it doesn’t work out, how is that going to affect their friendship? Hell, how is that going to affect their _working relationship_? It’s messy and complicated, and confusing, and not even his highschool crushes were this complex and emotionally draining. But here and now, Buck has a choice to make. One that doesn’t end with Eddie broken, Chris miserable, or him having to lie to him.

He says finally, “I think anyone who dedicates their life to helping kids, to making sure they have opportunities for a good future, is a good person.” Not untrue. “So yes, I like her.” Painful, but also not untrue.

Chris stares at him, eyes way too deep and serious. He is clearly still visibly displeased but he doesn’t say as much.

Buck flashes a smile, hoping the worst is over, and hands him a lego. “What about this piece? Where do you want that one to go?”

Chris doesn’t take the lego. He keeps staring at Buck with those big, doleful eyes, and says, “Why can’t you be with my dad instead?”

His voice is soft and sad, naive and hopeful all at the same time. It’s positively heartbreaking is what it is, especially compounded with the fact that Buck has been asking himself the same question for months now.

Buck offers him another smile, softer and tinged with a little of his own sadness, and says, “It’s complicated, buddy.”

“Well, then uncomplicate it.” Chris perks up, finally starting to look something other than miserable. “Do you like my dad?”

“Of course, I like your dad. He’s my best friend”

“No, I mean, do you _like-like_ him.” 

Ah. Buck should have seen that one coming.

“Chris—”

“Because he like-likes you, but he won’t say it, so you have to.”

“Buddy, your dad’s dating someone else. I can’t just...”

Buck lets his voice trail off. There’s no way in hell he’s having this conversation with a ten-year-old. Especially when he can barely have this conversation with himself. But Chris’s line of questioning, the hope in his face and in his voice…

Oh.

Suddenly, Buck understands things differently than he did a moment ago. Damn it. Both he and Eddie should have seen this one coming. Buck’s been a fixture in Christopher’s life since he was _seven_. Already the kid has survived his father’s many absences overseas, the death of his mother, a fucking tsunami that almost killed him, and now, with someone else entering the picture, of course Chris would be worried about losing him too.

“Hey, come here.” Buck waits for Chris to climb onto his lap so he’s facing him and wraps his arm around his back. He softens his voice. “You know that whatever happens with your dad and Miss Flores, I’m always going to be here for you guys, right? That’s never going to change.”

And there it is. He’s not built for anger, this kid. Christopher crumples immediately, all the lingering irritability draining from his face.

His bottom lip trembles. “She’s going to ruin _everything_.”

“No,” Buck says firmly. “That’s not going to happen because we’re not going to let it happen. Look at me.” Buck cups the back of his head, scratching his fingers through the soft hairs at the base of Christopher’s neck. “I’m always going to be there for you. We’re family, right? No one is going to change that. Even if your dad and Miss Flores get married.” He barely manages not to choke on the word.

Christopher sniffles. “Swear it?”

Buck holds up his pinky, the way Maddie has done so many times for him before, and waits for Christopher to link his tiny finger through his. “I pinky swear it.” He pulls Christopher in for a hug. Let’s the kid cry all his anger and frustration out, and when Christopher’s cries turn to sporadic little sniffs, he nudges him back. “Better?”

Chris shrugs. At least he doesn’t look like he’s going to break down into tears again. “Better.”

Good enough for him. 

Buck lets Chris climb off his lap. They sit together in silence for a few minutes, passing lego pieces back and forth. Then Buck says, “You’re going to have to apologize to your dad, though, bud.” 

Chris doesn’t look up. Not with petulance, this time, but shame. “He’s going to be mad at me.”

“He’s not going to be mad at you, he’s worried about you.”

“I told him I hated him, though.”

Another dart of pain at the reminder. It really has been a shitty twenty-four hours, hasn’t it?

“Yeah,” Buck agrees, because denying it isn’t going to do anyone any favors. “But you didn’t mean it, right?” Chris shakes his head so hard his hair flops. “Okay then. Your dad loves you more than anything in this world, and he knows you love him. I promise he’ll forgive you.” Buck takes a deep breath. “And since we’re on the topic, you have to give Miss Flores a chance, okay? I know you don’t like her,” he says when Chris opens his mouth, “But she makes your dad happy. And he deserves to be happy, doesn’t he?”

Christopher sighs, long-suffering. It’d be funny if Buck didn’t hate the thought as much as he did. “I guess I can give her a chance.”

“That’s all anyone can ask for.”

They go back to building with legos, crisis averted for now, at least. The front door unlocks only twenty minutes later as Chris is brushing his teeth for bed. Buck hadn’t even heard the car pull into the driveway.

Eddie appears in the doorway of the living room. “Hey.” Ana waves at Buck from her place at Eddie’s back. Eddie drops his keys on the coffee table. “How were things here?”

It’s almost embarrassing what Eddie does to him. Even just looking at his face makes Buck’s whole world realign, his soul gravitating toward Eddie like a flower unfurling in the gentle heat of the sun. Eddie is light— _his_ light—but right now he looks dim. Damn near snuffed out. His shoulders are hunched, his usually strong, and commanding voice whittled down to a dull point.

God, Buck wants to wrap him in blankets and never let him go.

“They were okay.” He rises to his feet with a groan and crosses the living room. He puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his thumb automatically going to his pulse point, and nods toward the hallway. “He should just be getting into bed. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“I don’t know if…” _I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I don’t know if he’ll want to see me._

The hurt in Eddie runs deep, deeper probably than he even realizes, but Buck didn’t spend all evening flaying himself open just for Eddie to withdraw within himself. He can practically see Eddie replaying Chris’s words in the back of his head. Can practically _feel_ Eddie’s old impulse to run rising up from the very depths of him, and that just won’t do.

Buck gives him a little shake and says more firmly, “Go to talk to him, Eddie.” 

Eddie nods. He visibly shakes himself out of his thoughts and nods again. “Right. Yeah. Yeah, I’m going.” He turns to Ana. “I’m sorry, I have to—” 

Ana shakes her head. “Don’t. This is more important.” She leans in and gives him a peck on the lips. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Buck and Ana watch Eddie walk down the hallway and disappear into Chris’s bedroom, the door closing with a quiet _snick_ behind him. It’s only once he’s gone that an awkward silence descends between them. Buck turns to look at Ana properly for the first time this evening. She looks exceptional—wine-red evening dress so form-fitting it looks like she was poured into it, dark hair laid in perfect waves across her shoulders.

No wonder Eddie is stuck like glue to her.

She clears her throat. “So is Christopher okay? Eddie told me what happened.”

“He’s a tough kid, he’ll be fine. He’s just got a lot on his plate.” There’s no way in hell he’s discussing Chris with her, though, so he thinks of something to say, _anything_ to say. “How was the date?”

“It was fine. He was distracted, of course, but how could he not have been?” She seems understanding, at least. Buck figures that’s a good sign. Ana smiles up at him. “So, now that babysitting duty is over, are you about to head out and try to salvage the last few hours of your Friday?”

She says it jokingly but Buck frowns, thoughtful. He can’t even _remember_ the last time he had Friday plans that didn’t involve Eddie and Chris. “Not exactly.” He gives a low laugh. “I promised Chris I’d teach him how to make French toast tomorrow, and Chris usually likes the mess more than he likes the actual cooking, so I figured I’d better call it an early night.”

“Oh.” Ana blinks at him. “Okay. Sorry. I think I missed something. Are you… staying here?”

“Yeah. Crashing on the sofa for a few weeks. Or months. Or until whenever Eddie gets tired of me.” Buck frowns when her words sink in. “Wait, did Eddie not tell you this?”

Ana purses her lips. “Nope, can’t say he did. I thought you were just here babysitting.” There’s no mistaking the displeasure in her voice even though her polite little smile hasn’t left her face. 

Oh fuck.

Buck laughs, awkward. “Uh, yeah, no, not exactly. Roommate trouble.” He waves a hand. “I’m sure he just forgot to tell you.”

“Right.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “Sorry, how long have you been staying here, again?”

Buck almost wants to lie. He coughs. “Four weeks.”

“That’s a lot of forgetting.” Ana’s eyes go distant for a moment, her face falls. She looks, in that moment, so lost and dejected that Buck isn’t sure whether to pat her on the shoulder or leave her alone. As it turns out, he doesn’t have to do either, because when she looks back at him, her smile is tight, but genuine. “Well, tell Edmundo I’ll call him later.” 

“Sure.” He walks with her to the door.

“It was good seeing you again, Buck.” Ana sticks out her hand for him to shake. “You take care of yourself. I hope things with your roommate clear up soon.”

“Thanks. Have a good night.”

He only lets his smile drop once he hears the sound of her car pulling out of the driveway. Buck drags a hand over his face, drops down at the kitchen table, and lets his head rest against the surface. When did his life get so complicated? 

Eddie comes out of Chris’s bedroom a moment later. He looks better than he did before, happier if not completely happy, and goes to the fridge. He pulls out bottles of water for the both of them, and takes a seat at Buck’s side. 

Buck nods to Christopher’s closed door. “How did that go?”

“I guess I have you to thank for how easy that was. I’d barely made it through the door before he was apologizing.”

Buck shrugs. “He’s a good kid. You’ve done a good job with him.” 

“Yeah, he’s the best, isn’t he?” 

Eddie’s smile is small, and sweet, and pleased. They sit in silence for so long that Buck’s eyelids begin to droop, and he’s beginning to contemplate the merits of just sleeping at the kitchen table for the night, but then Eddie says quietly, “You know, I don't know if I ever thanked you. I would have been lost without you. With all of this.” He waves a hand indicating, Buck assumes, everything that’s transpired over the past few years. “Especially after Shannon. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been there.” Eddie looks up at him. “So thank you.”

“I told you I had your back. I meant that.

"Not just mine, though. Christopher said you pinky swore to that today. Did you mean that?”

“I’ve never meant anything more,” Buck says automatically. He hesitates. “Is it—I mean, I didn’t mean to overstep if—”

“Buck. _Buck_. Stop. You didn’t overstep, I just…” Eddie huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “God. You have no fucking idea, do you?” 

He says it quietly like he doesn’t mean for Buck to hear, which is stupid because Buck listens to and hangs on to every word that Eddie says. He just doesn't know what he means by that, but when Eddie looks at him, the entire atmosphere tips on a sudden, sharp axis. The look on Eddie’s face is not one Buck’s seen before. At least, not one he’s seen directed at him—gentle and warm like a caress. Buck swallows. His heartbeat kicks up a notch, his hands go sweaty, and he doesn’t even know _why_ . The only thing he knows is that he wants to kiss Eddie so damn bad his mouth practically _aches_ with it.

He licks his lips and nearly stops breathing when Eddie’s eyes drop to his mouth.

Buck whispers, “I have no idea about what?”

It's a slow thing, the way Eddie drags his eyes back to Buck's. Slow like he's trying to memorize every inch of him. He studies him for a moment before looking away and shaking his head. “I don’t know. Never mind. Ignore me. It’s been a long day.”He pushes his chair back, and just like that, the moment is broken. “I’m, uh, I’m going to head off to bed. But. Thank you again for tonight.”

“It’s no problem,” Buck says after a beat.

Eddie puts a hand on his shoulder, then shuffles off to his room, leaving Buck to sit and wonder what the hell just happened. He watches him leave, a storm of unidentifiable feelings tearing through his chest. He hadn’t imagined that look on Eddie’s face, nor did he imagine the way Eddie had gazed at his mouth, but he feels so fucking thrown by it that he might as well have been dreaming.

It’s too much to think about tonight. Buck stays seated in the chair for as long as it takes to reel his thoughts and emotions back in before standing up. He pulls his pillows and blankets from the closet with already familiar motions and spreads them out on the couch.

Eddie wasn’t wrong, it has been a long-ass day. But tomorrow is a brand new twenty-four hours. Another chance to get right everything that they got wrong today. Maybe tomorrow he’ll take Maddie up on her advice. Maybe tomorrow he’ll figure out a way to let these feelings go before they drive him insane. Either way, those are problems for the morning.

With that in mind, Buck turns off the light and falls dead asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

**Author's Note:**

> @evcndiaz on tumblr! come say hi!


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